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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447203">Our faultless, dauntless curious love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusensical/pseuds/amusensical'>amusensical</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Forging a Bond [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Canon Compliant, M/M, Puppy Carter, This could change some things</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:02:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447203</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/amusensical/pseuds/amusensical</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Barnes’ right arm is over Carter’s back, and he feels the flex of back muscles, the motion of breathing, another strand to the rhythm. Eyes still closed, Barnes just breathes. He figures Carter knows he’s awake. Hopes if he doesn’t move, Carter will keep going. Will know he doesn’t not want him to keep going.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Commander James Barnes/Howard Carter (Rusty Quill Gaming)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Forging a Bond [9]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Our faultless, dauntless curious love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please check the rating.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He wakes, on the floor, Carter’s tousled head on his shoulder, Carter’s legs grasping his own, Carter rocking against his hip. Not even rocking, just pressing, releasing. His hand is a gentle weight on Barnes’ chest; his thumb makes tiny strokes in counterpoint to the almost imperceptible rutting. <em>Oh.</em></p><p>Barnes’ right arm is over Carter’s back, and he feels the flex of back muscles, the motion of breathing, another strand to the rhythm. Eyes still closed, Barnes just breathes. He figures Carter knows he’s awake. Hopes if he doesn’t move, Carter will keep going. Will know he doesn’t not want him to keep going. </p><p>The tent glows with late afternoon sunlight. With each moment, each furtive, pulsing movement, Barnes wakes further, feels his scalp prickle, his balls tighten. He wills himself to relax, to just feel. Feel the clear outline of Carter’s cock against the meat of his thigh, those long muscled legs flexing against his. Feel the hand, splayed over his nipple, the feathering brush along the curve of muscle. Barnes realizes the spot of heat he feels at his shoulder is where Carter’s mouth has soaked through his shirt and can’t control the shiver that ripples all the way through him. Carter immediately stills. <em>Damn it. </em></p><p>“S’all right,” he whispers, shifts just slightly, rolling his hips, hugging a little tighter, feels Carter’s sharp shallow breath. “Good.”  </p><p>Barnes puts his hand on top of Carter’s hand, breathing deeply, pushes up into the combined pressure. Rolls again, feels Carter buck against his thigh. Now that their thumbs together are against his nipple it’s as if there’s a wire there, tightening, from that point on his chest, winding into the heat building in his belly. </p><p>Barnes presses with the arm that is around Carter’s back and pulls with the other hand, shifting underneath him until Carter is laid fully on top of him. Carter’s hands are fisted into Barnes’ shirt and he raises up his face, looking at Barnes, mouth a little open, bright eyes hooded. His expression is urgent, almost defiant. Looking right into Barnes’ eyes, he presses himself hard right into Barnes’ crotch, then an arching shudder.  </p><p>“Huh,” he can’t help it, can’t help but shift underneath the rocking pressure, bending his knees and pressing his heels into the floor for leverage.</p><p>Barnes uses both hands to rub counter to Carter’s motion, down as he thrusts forward, up as he pushes back. He lets the motion draw his hands into strokes along his arms, his back, reaching down along the curve of his ass, the tops of his hamstrings where the muscles flex with each push.</p><p>Carter ducks his head, presses his forehead to Barnes’ chest, under his chin. “Can’t wait,” Carter says. “It’s. So.” He moans against the hollow of Barnes’ throat, panting,  </p><p>Barnes’ own breath comes shorter as Carter moves on top of him, a clenching wave, feels it from where Carter lies between his thighs and thrusts upward, forward, against him, faster, then the rhythm deteriorates. </p><p>Carter’s orgasm starts as a hum that Barnes feels in his own belly where they are pressed together, shifting to a muffled shout as Carter thrusts <em>once</em>, <em>again</em>, then shudders against him. Barnes slides his hands under Carter's shirt, feeling the sweat along his spine, moving his hands in long strokes along his back as his breathing slows.</p><p>“Ah. Fuck.” says Carter, head still down. He relaxes his hands but keeps them tucked between them. </p><p>“Yeah,” Barnes tips his head and presses his lips against Carter’s head, puts his arms back around him, squeezes. “Feel better?”</p><p>“Mmm. Thanks. Yeah.” Carter looks up, sweaty, smiling. He rocks into Barnes again, where Barnes is still hard between them. “Let me? With my mouth. I want to.” </p><p>Barnes reaches up with one hand and pushes the sweaty curls off Carter’s forehead. Carter closes his eyes and tips his head into Barnes' hand. Barnes pushes his fingertips into Carter’s hair, along his hairline, behind his jaw, petting behind Carter’s ear. He closes his hand around a fistful of curls and Carter’s eyes open. Tightens his grip, tugs until they are looking right at each other, ready. Barnes tips his chin up. His command is a breath. “Go.”</p><p>Carter slides down Barnes’ body, presses his lips against his ribs, belly, waist, through his clothes, until his open mouth is at Barnes’ hip. He nuzzles into the hollowed crease, lips at the tendon as Barnes spreads his legs. Carter dips his head, rubs his face against Barnes’ cock through the fabric, sniffs deeply with a hum of delight that makes Barnes exhale, completely, grabbing at the rug to keep from writhing. </p><p>Carter tugs at Barnes’ pants enough to free his straining cock, then pushes them down further when Barnes rolls toward him, enough to bare the tops of his thighs, enough space for Carter’s hands and impatient mouth. Carter leans in to grasp, to taste, his shoulder pressed against the underside of Barnes’ thigh. </p><p>Any control Barnes intended to keep is unraveled by Carter’s impatience and his tongue, and his knuckles pressing behind his balls, and the sight of his sweaty, messy curls against his thigh.</p><p>Carter hums around his cock, more felt than heard. His head and the hand on Barnes’ hip move in counterpoint, again, the sense of rippling, eddies of sensation. Barnes rests his fingertips on the hand that grips his hip. The other hand is open on his own thigh, laid against Carter’s face, his palm cradling the jaw that flexes with each stroke.</p><p>“You’re so good, that’s just right,” says Barnes quietly, roughly, as they find a rhythm, and the hum around his cock is more a whine. Then it is just motion, and <em>good</em>, and <em>good</em>, and <em>good</em>, and everything stops. </p><p>After, Carter rearranges Barnes’ pants, then lies with his head on Barnes’ thigh, grinning. Their joined hands are clasped at the hip Carter used for leverage; Barnes’ other hand pets gently through Carter’s hair. </p><p>“I’m glad,” Barnes says. “I thank you.” </p><p>“I’m glad, too,” says Carter. “Bit of a mess, though. I’m for a shower, then food.” </p><p>“Let’s. Um. Talk later? About what happened. And this. This might change some things.”</p><p>Carter swivels his head to look up at Barnes' face. “By <em>change some things </em>I hope you mean more of. Well. This.”</p><p>“That’s one thing. Yes. More.” Barnes smiles back. They lever themselves off the floor, stretch, grab clothes and necessities for the bath house. Carter reaches for the door ties.</p><p>“Hold up,” says Barnes, stepping up next to Carter at the door. He grabs the front of Carter’s shirt and gently tugs until they are face to face. He steps closer, pushes at Carter’s hair where it falls over his eyes, and grins when Carter nuzzles into his hand instead. Then Barnes grips Carter’s chin, holding steady, kissing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Title from “The Hustle” by Kiltro</p><p>Big thanks to sprint buddy <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/escherzo/pseuds/escherzo">escherzo</a> for writing circles around me and good advice as I worked to make the first time nice for these guys.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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